Realizing he was married took a couple of months. By then he thought I was so in love I’d never leave him. Wrong. I’m an Aquarius. We keep our emotions in check when it come to love.

His story was that his housemate was a hoarder, he was embarrassed to take me to his house. She was in the process of moving out but taking longer than he hoped. Boxes were all over the place. They had been friends for a long time and he had been helping her out with a room. She had a place in the City where she spent most of her time. “Did you sleep with her”? I asked. “Never. Of course not. She’s been a friend of the family for years. Not my type. She has her own bedroom and bathroom.”  “I’ve just been trying to be a good guy — that’s how I roll.”

As the winter holidays approached and we started to talk about where we would spend them together, the housemate turned out to be a wife of 20 years. But, good news, he had started the divorce paperwork. He had been working on it late at night locating all of the assets. It was just hard to serve her over Christmas and New Years, but right after would be good.

And then it was her birthday and he couldn’t do it because she planned and paid for the trip to Europe. And then he did it – and surprise she wanted to go to counseling. She liked the relationship the way it was. This was six years ago. I dumped him right after an expensive dinner on my birthday.

But he continued to hang around, starting with a lunch now and then, and then drinks in the middle of the week. I would only meet with him in a public place. And then he worked his way up to cooking dinner on a perfect spring evening so we could enjoy my new fountain and landscaping — with a bottle of wine he had been saving for a very special occasion. Tasted pretty blah to me.

And then my Dad died and he stepped up the pressure. I was numb. Coming to the rescue to be sure I was OK, cooking a great dinner, getting me really drunk, and then sleeping next to me – naked. I’d taken two sleeping pills and with the wine I guess snored like crazy. You think that would have turned him off forever.

My guard was down, and he wasted no time. Calling every day. Insisting I return the calls or he would come by the house to make sure I was OK. As if I was going to kill myself, or die of grief. Geez I’m online all day long, it’s pretty easy to see if I am alive.

And then last week he pulled out all stops, groping, pushing, hugging, french kissing, putting his face in my lap to try and get to my pussy. I couldn’t drink my wine, I couldn’t eat. I tried to clean up the dishes and he cornered me in the kitchen. I laugh it off. I turned red.

He followed me to bed and got in. I asked him to leave. He stayed, erect and waiting. “I’ve been waiting for years he’s said” “I’ve never forgotten how it was to have sex with you in the morning when I was still sleeping. How you would make me fresh biscuits while I was in the shower.” I did, from scratch, timing them just right to be out of the oven by the time he was done shaving. When I want to, I can be pretty charming. The best biscuits he’s ever had, were for him, a testament to how much I loved him. It’s said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

God, how does his wife stand it. No wonder she keeps her own place. May the two of you find love again, and keep me out of it. Honey if you want him, try the biscuit recipe. It went something like this:

Baking Powder Biscuits Recipe